


in your footsteps

by Riparia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Consent Issues, Incest, Parent/Child Incest, Secret Relationship, Vaginal Fisting, dubcon (for the first chapter), no morality just smut, rutting (for later chapters)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28676937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riparia/pseuds/Riparia
Summary: Viktor is a skater and Yuuri, his son, insists on skating Eros. The program isn't appropriate for his age, but that turns out to be a minor issue compared to the bigger one: Yuuri's motive with it.(If you've read Myshka and you're looking for something similar, read the Notes before the story please.)(EDIT: I'm going to edit this pile of porn to be an actual story with a plot. So if you read, watch out for that.)
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 80
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're looking for another story like Myshka, I'm sorry, this might not be for you. They get over _that_ conflict in record time and enjoy their shared secret. It looks a lot like Myshka in some moments, but it's different. I'm playing with different toys.  
> LATER I do have another story in mind where they deal with guilt and self hate, this time from Yuuri's side, being comforted by Viktor.
> 
> For in your footsteps, once they're both sure they want each other, they celebrate their relationship. No guilt, no regrets.
> 
> If you think this is gross because you can't tell "how can this be a cope fic?????": fuck off, I don't owe you explanations, go cry elsewhere.  
> If you think this is gross because incest, why did you click here? Are you bored? Remember that me deleting your comment takes less time than you writing it.
> 
> The rest of you, have fun! :D

Viktor isn't sure about the costume when Yuuri chooses it, but he can't say "I wore it at your age, but you can't." So he lets Yuuri take it.

He isn't sure about the choice of music, but Yuuri points out he skated worse. But he lets Yuuri pick it.

He isn't sure about some of the moves Yuuri puts into his routine, but again, Viktor has no leg to stand on if he wants to forbid it. He feels sympathy for Yakov, and regret that he didn't listen and tone down his performances when he had the time, before his son decided to use them against him.

So Yuuri has what he wants: a routine that doesn't suit his age at all. Eros.

Viktor hopes it's in his own head. It wouldn't be the first time that his mind goes to inappropriate places when he watches Yuuri skate.

That hope shatters with the first competition. 

Hands trailing up his body, the boy meets his eyes, throwing a smirk his way. Suddenly, the cool air of the rink grows suffocating.

Viktor wants to run. He feels exposed, naked, with his desire flaring in his chest, probably plain to see for anyone who cares to look.

What is Yuuri doing!?

Viktor forces himself to look, a proper coach watching his competing student, even if it means he sees dozens of little taunts aimed at him. Even if it means his blood runs hot with need. Even if it means gritting his teeth, knuckles white in his gloves.

He has to button up his long coat before moving away from the boards.

At the kiss and cry, Viktor sits a fraction further from Yuuri than he usually would. Yuuri has his eyes closed, breathing in and out deeply as they wait for his score. A new personal best, and almost breaking a record.

Yuuri looks up at him, eyes bright, and Viktor smiles back. "Good job," he says and tucks away the problems for later.

"You don't look happy. Dad, I got gold! I know it's not a big competition, but--"

"That's not it, Yuuri," Viktor says, sitting on his hotel bed and rubbing his temple. "I'm very proud of you. I'm just tired."

Yuuri looks down. He takes the medal off, putting it on the little side table separating their beds.

"You didn't hug me," Yuuri says, leaning forward, and Viktor wonders if he knows what, exactly, he's pushing. "In the kiss and cry."

Viktor considers several possible replies. Then decides they might as well have the conversation. Very deliberately, careful not to sound accusatory, he says, "When you skated... You looked at me at very specific points."

Yuuri's eyes go wider by a fraction.

"Why did you insist on this routine? Be honest."

"... To show you."

"To show me what? That you're all grown up?" he says, trying not to make it sound mocking.

"I guess. That too."

"I don't need a routine like _ that _ to know. You're working a career more demanding than most adults. I know you're mature."

Yuuri bites his lip, and for once Viktor doesn't feel him to stop. "Not that kind of grown up."

Viktor can't move. He can't breathe. Yuuri looks at him like he's waiting for something and Viktor can't imagine what.

When Yuuri was only three weeks old, his mother, Masami, contacted Viktor. She was tired and upset, saying that their current arrangement isn't enough and she wants to give Yuuri up for adoption. Viktor, unable to bear the idea of not knowing his own son, decided to take Yuuri and raise him alone. In preparation, he got parenting books. As many as he could get his hands on.

None of them prepared him for anything remotely like this.

Viktor gets up. "I'm going to take a shower."

He stays there, locked away, until he can't pretend he's still showering. Then he sends Yuuri in and leaves the room to wander aimlessly. He only returns when he's sure Yuuri is asleep.

Avoidance doesn't work when they're back home. Yuuri skates in the usual rink and he makes it as provocative as he did in competition. He used to at least pretend this program isn't directed at Viktor, but now that Viktor knows, Yuuri doesn't seem inclined to hold back anymore.

It's even worse when Viktor is the only one watching.

Viktor taps the boards with an agitated finger, so tense his shoulders hurt. He's trusted here, both personally and due to his reputation from his days competing, and it was never an issue before to use the time allowed to them while the rink is technically closed. But now Yuuri shoots him a kiss and he recoils.

Viktor leaves for the dressing room, leaning his forehead against the cool lockers. He hears Yuuri's hesitant footsteps when he walks in and joins him, a while later.

"What was that?" he says without raising his head to look.

"You got angry the last time I answered."

Viktor grits his teeth. "Stop skating this like it's for me."

"But it is for you," Yuuri says, coming closer. Within reach. "Dad, that's the point."

"What are you trying to do, exactly? What do you want?"

"... If I answer you'll be angry again."

Viktor grits his teeth. "I won't be angry. I wasn't angry. I'm frustrated. And tired."

"You're angry," Yuuri insists. "You're angry because I'm skating Eros for you and I'm not stopping." 

"Yuuri—"

"I'm not stopping. You can't make me." Yuuri grabs his sleeve. "I'm not stopping and if this isn't enough, then I'll skate a routine even more sexy next year. And the year after. I don't care, I'll be worse than Chris, I'll—"

Something in Viktor snaps. He doesn't know how, but Yuuri ends up with his back pressed to the lockers, Viktor's hand on his chest, holding him firmly in place.

And then Viktor realizes he's growling. He can't stop. His blood feels like it's boiling in his veins.

Immediately his mind goes to excuses, that his rut is near, or that it's a normal parental protective instinct that resists the idea of Yuuri skating an explicit routine. 

Those comforting  _ lies _ circling his mind vanish when Yuuri grips his shirt and pulls, trying to bring them closer, and says, "I smelled you in the kiss and cry." He's a little tense, even trembling, his scent sweet and deep with desire. "Dad, please?"

The pleading, with Yuuri's voice broken with need, is the last straw.

Viktor crashes their mouths together and Yuuri groans, wrapping a leg around Viktor's hips.

In Viktor's fantasies, the ones he doesn't want to admit, he's gentle with Yuuri, loving and attentive. But that's not what happens.

After the taunting and the goading, every pent up emotion boils over. Yuuri's clothes are torn off just enough for Viktor to plunge in, lifting Yuuri up, still pressing him to the lockers.

Yuuri clings to him, arms around Viktor's shoulders and legs around Viktor's waist. He moans with every thrust, the sound echoing in the empty space.

Viktor loves it and hates it, proud to produce the sounds but feeling possessive and jealous even over them. He puts his teeth to Yuuri's neck, not over his glands for a bite but over his windpipe to encourage submission.

It works. Yuuri goes pliant, almost limp in his arms if not for the way he's still holding on. His noises turn into little whimpers. 

Viktor comes with a muffled grunt and slides to the floor, lowering Yuuri with him. Mind still foggy from his orgasm, he catches his breath and tucks himself back in to avoid the cold air. He leans back and away from Yuuri.

It's the sight that punches him back into reality.

Yuuri, red faced, shaking and panting, his clothes ruined and his cunt dripping.

Viktor barely thinks to cover him with his coat before he flees.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two at once? Yes! Because the last one ended a bit sad for me to leave you with just that. I'm merciful and nice. Praise me please 💙

Viktor reaches out to pull a bottle without looking to see which alcoholic drink he's taking, but he stops himself when he hears the clink of glass. His hand is shaking.

He shouldn't drink. If he was capable of  _ that _ sober, what would he do drunk?

He folds his arms over the counter and buries his face in them with a miserable, low whine.

He left Yuuri there alone.  _ Alone.  _ After shoving him into the lockers and— It's unthinkable.

He imagines Yuuri there, huddled in Viktor's coat— Or maybe he isn't. Maybe he hates it, so soaked in Viktor's scent. Maybe he can't stand it after what Viktor did to him. He probably wants to get rid of it.

Where will Yuuri go? Where will he feel safe? He's a boy. He has no money, no other family, nothing of his own. And Viktor left him alone instead of helping him clean up, change, and find somewhere safe. Somewhere away from Viktor himself.

The door opens as Yuuri walks in.

"Dad?"

Viktor doesn't deserve to be called that.

"In the kitchen," he says anyway because Yuuri sounds worried.

Yuuri walks towards him, smelling of a blend of emotions.

"I cleaned," Yuuri says. "And I remembered to lock."

Viktor doesn't know what to say to that.

"The keys... They were in your coat. I thought you'd be upset about not locking. You always say they trust us to—"

"I wasn't worried about locking," Viktor interrupts.

"... Do you hate me?"

"What?" Viktor raises his head to look at him. Yuuri has wrapped the coat around himself tightly. "Why would I—?"

"I kept pushing. I kept pushing until this happened, and I..." he trails off, looking down. "I don't want you to hate me."

Viktor shakes his head. "Malysh. I couldn't."

"But I kept pushing. You told me not to and I still did. I even—" he stops, but looks like he wants to say more.

"You even what?"

"Don't be angry."

"I won't be angry with you."

"I knew your rut is soon. It was... on purpose."

Viktor swallows. It tastes bitter. He sighs. "Then maybe we can stop that, now that you got what you wanted."

Yuuri shrinks, his chin disappearing into Viktor's coat. "This wasn't what I wanted."

With that punch to the gut, the room starts spinning.

If Yuuri didn't want this... Did Viktor just  _ rape _ his own son?

_ "What?" _

Yuuri hugs himself. "I didn't want you to be so upset about it. Or to leave. I wanted it to be different, when it happened."

Viktor processes that while struggling to breathe.

Yuuri wanted it. No rape. Still awful, but at least... at least it's not  _ that _ .

Viktor almost sinks to the floor with relief. Suddenly, he's very very tired.

"Dad?"

Viktor closes his eyes. "Sorry," he says weakly, holding onto the counter. "I... I don't know if I'm capable of what you want." Before Yuuri can say anything in response to that, Viktor adds, "You should go take a shower. Change out of that. We can talk more after."

Despite saying that, Viktor wants to avoid talking. Before Yuuri returns he heats up some leftovers and puts them on the table for Yuuri to eat, knowing he won't be able to stomach any food himself.

Hoping for a few moments alone, he goes to his room and crashes into bed. He's so drained his limbs are almost numb.

Yuuri didn't want him to be upset. Yuuri didn't want to be left alone. Yuuri _ did _ want what happened.

Can he believe that? Or is Yuuri saying this for him? Is Yuuri saying these things because he feels guilty for pushing?

If he means them... Can Viktor bear to deny him? Every time he does it, he hates himself for it. It's worse than the hatred he feels for how he's drawn to Yuuri.

"Dad? You said we could talk?" comes Yuuri's voice from the entrance to his room.

"Come in, Yuuri."

Yuuri comes and sits carefully at the edge of the small bed, nervous and small. He's wearing soft, warm pajamas even though it's late afternoon, not even evening yet.

Yuuri doesn't say anything. Viktor doesn't know what to say either. He closes his eyes, trying to string together an apology with enough weight to suit the situation. Nothing comes to mind. He feels Yuuri shifting on the bed.

"You left."

Viktor opens his eyes. "That really was the worst part for you."

"It was fine until you left."

"Then," Viktor says, deciding not to argue with Yuuri's unthinkable definition of  _ fine,  _ "how can I make this better?"

It's an unfair question. It's selfish because Yuuri shouldn't be responsible for fixing anything. Yuuri is young and Viktor is all he has.

Yuuri says quietly, "A hug?"

The hesitant way he says it breaks Viktor's heart. He isn't disgusted by the idea of touching Viktor. He's scared of rejection.

In Viktor's world, there's nothing worse than rejecting Yuuri. The ultimate crime is pushing him away. This is where his reality is anchored, and everything else is secondary.

Ever since he was a child, denying him sweets or toys was easy. Denying him Viktor, in any form he wanted, was impossible. It still is.

"Come here."

Yuuri joins him, moving like he's waiting for Viktor to take it back until he settles into Viktor's arms.

Viktor was never married. His bed is small. He rolls over to his side and wraps himself around Yuuri's body, keeping them close. His boy feels so small. His arms, clinging to Viktor, are so weak. He's trembling.

With Yuuri in his arms, something in Viktor settles.

"Dad? You're not angry with me?"

"No. It's not your fault. Rut or no rut, it shouldn't have worked."

"... I wanted it to work."

"I can't imagine why."

"Yes, you can. You want me too."

At this point, Viktor can't deny it. He stays quiet. His limbs are heavy with exhaustion.

"I thought it was silly at first, skating for you. But then you got angry. Because it worked. So... I know you understand."

It's different, but not in a way Viktor can articulate, so he doesn't try. He just says, "I'm tired, malysh."

Yuuri stops talking. He hugs Viktor closer, tucking head under Viktor's chin, and stays there.

For a while, Viktor's mind is too messy to rest. But he's tired enough that it quiets down and he starts dozing. Before falling asleep, he feels Yuuri's warmth against the side of his neck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard not to post what I already have written, I want to share the fun with everyone!

Yuuri's bed stays made. He insists on sleeping in Viktor's bed, despite... the incident. Or maybe because of it. Viktor can't deny him, especially not when he thinks it's a result of how he left. Yuuri probably needs this security, and if Viktor's is being honest, the closer he is to his rut, the more he prefers Yuuri there.

Viktor tries to remember how he felt when Yuuri was four or five, crawling into his bed after a nightmare. He doesn't manage to match his feelings, but he does match his behavior to those times, years ago. A kiss on the forehead, a warm embrace, a soft "Good night."

It seems like Yuuri is fine. Until he's skating.

All the drive, all the ambition he showed skating Eros is gone. His other program also suffers, even if not as much. He seems gutted, and Viktor itches to  _ fix it. _ Make it better.

"Good job," he says, giving Yuuri his skate guards after a run through Eros.

"Don't lie."

Viktor winces. He follows Yuuri, watching him wipe down his skates and take care of them as diligently as always.

"Do you want to change programs?"

"No."

"Your heart isn't in it anymore."

"Yes it is."

"Yuuri."

"It is!" he insists.

"You're sure you're not just being stubborn?"

Yuuri deflates. "I..."

"Yes?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

On the way home, quietly, Yuuri adds, "I don't want it if it'll make you look like that again."

Viktor frowns. "Like what?"

"Like... When I got back home."

Viktor runs through the conversation again that night. Yuuri is asleep in his arms, calm and beautiful. Viktor's palm rests on his cheek, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin. Yuuri's scent is now a permanent presence in the room. To smell it properly, Viktor needs to have his nose in Yuuri's hair and  _ breathe. _

His old fantasies are vivid in his mind, gentle and loving, extracting pleasure from Yuuri's body until he can't stand it.

If he trusts Yuuri's words, his boy doesn't regret what happened. Just what it made Viktor feel.

He hugs Yuuri a little tighter and Yuuri shifts in his sleep. The cramped space can't be comfortable, but he sleeps here every night now. Can he trust the implications of this?

Viktor's head is overflows with thoughts of everything he wants. Yuuri's slender body is warm in his arms and he closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of their bodies pressed together. The comforting scent has the power to light up his blood, but right now it lulls him to sleep.

"You'll have to think of a way to reconnect with Eros," Viktor says the next day, after another dull practice that only added to Yuuri's frustration.

Yuuri frowns.

"Do you disagree?"

"I didn't lose the connection."

"No? Then why does your skating look like  _ that?" _

Yuuri glares at him weakly, looking more hurt than angry.

Viktor tries to redirect Yuuri's performance to different aspects of sexuality, guiding him towards healthier outlets. Yuuri stubbornly resists.

Eventually Viktor sets an ultimatum: "Figure this out, or we're creating a new program."

He's expecting Yuuri to sulk, but Yuuri is too torn and upset for anything so theatrical. He barely looks at Viktor for the rest of the day. After dinner, he goes to soak in the bath and stays there for hours.

Viktor knocks on the door. "Did you freeze in there?"

There's a movement in the water.

"I'm sorry. But we need to figure this out before..." Viktor's rut. "Before we have to take a break. It'll be a few days."

Not even a slush of water this time.

"Are you coming out soon?"

"No."

"Okay. Don't fall asleep in there."

It's quiet for a moment. Viktor almost leaves without waiting for a response, but he hears a sheepish "Dad?"

"Yes?"

Yuuri makes him wait a bit longer in the silence before he asks, "Can I still join you if I come to bed later?"

Viktor exhales. "If you want to."

Viktor tries to lie on his side to fall asleep, leaving space for Yuuri to join him. But when Yuuri does, Viktor is asleep on his back, becoming aware of it when Yuuri joins and lies mostly on top of him. He's too tired to roll over. His limbs are heavy. He wraps one arm around Yuuri's waist and tilts his head a little to kiss his temple.

Viktor's dreams are a hazy blend of sensation, visions of soft skin and echoes of quiet moans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea when chapter 4 is coming. Viktor and Yuuri refuse to stop having sex the moment I let them start. It's too long! D:


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I said they're having too much sex I had a 1900 words chapter. Now it's around 2700. Have fun,

It's still dark when Viktor wakes up to the sound of Yuuri's suppressed sobs. They're not what woke him, but Yuuri's attempts to extract himself from Viktor's embrace and leave the bed.

The scents in the air confuse Viktor's sleep-addled mind. Instinct urges him to reach out and pull Yuuri back, to hold and comfort him. Yuuri doesn't let himself be pulled, but he stops trying to escape.

"Sorry," Yuuri says, the crying more obvious when he speaks. "I didn't mean to—"

"Shhhh. Come back, malysh" He says. He doesn't know what to do with words. He just wants to cradle his boy.

Yuuri returns to him, so small in his arms, his weight barely felt on top of Viktor. Everything feels right again. Whatever part of his mind that says he shouldn't feel this way is quiet as every protective instinct in him is screaming that he should make this better right now.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri cries, clinging to Viktor's shirt. "I didn't mean— I didn't want— You smell good, and I— I— Daddy, I'm scared."

Viktor hugs him tighter. The last traces of sleep leave him and he recognizes the new scents that weren't there when he fell asleep.

"What happened?"

Yuuri shakes his head.

"Yuuri..."

"I'm sorry," Yuuri sobs. "Daddy, I'm sorry. Don't be angry. I'm sorry."

"You're scared of making me angry?" Viktor asks, heart aching. "Because of what I did?"

Yuuri shakes his head again.

The truth is, he can guess what happened. He can smell Yuuri's scent on him, stronger than it should be from just lying together for as long as they did. He can smell desire in the air. He can smell slick.

Realizing he can't get anything coherent out of Yuuri in this state, he stops trying. He's wary of where this will lead, but Yuuri isn't faking the crying. He isn't lying about the fear. So Viktor doesn't let go.

It seems like hours until the crying stops.

"Do you want to tell me now?" he asks gently.

"No."

"Is it related to why we smell the way we do right now?"

Yuuri is quiet. Refusing to lie. Refusing to admit the truth.

"Why are you scared?"

"Eros."

"The program?"

"I..." his lower lip trembles. "Dad, I don't want to give it up."

Viktor brushes the tips of his fingers through the hair at the nape of Yuuri's neck. "It? Or me?"

Yuuri looks away and Viktor knows he's right.

Yuuri says, "You keep telling me to give up."

"Is that bad?" 

"Yes."

"Why?"

"... Why what?"

"Why do you want it so much?"

Yuuri frowns. "That's not fair. Why do _you_ want _me?"_

And the thing is, Viktor does have an answer to this. He can talk forever about Yuuri's beauty, about his allure, about his scent, his clever mouth. The comfort of holding him like shielding him from the world. Wanting to keep him safe and happy and never let go.

But he says, "That's not what I asked."

Yuuri's shoulders are hunched and his body wants to curl in on itself, but Viktor holds him close.

Eventually, quietly: "No one else is going to love me this much."

And with that, it's decided. The last thread breaks.

"I'll love you just as much regardless."

"I know that. I just..." Yuuri's fingers curl into fists on Viktor's shirt. "I _want."_

The last word is fragile, desperate, almost broken.

The objective changes when Viktor asks again, "Why did you start crying?"

"... That's embarrassing."

"Tell me anyway."

He can tell Yuuri sees the difference. His eyes search Viktor's face and there's a new spark in them. He swallows and starts talking, with awkward pauses whenever he needs to push himself. "I don't want to give up on Eros. You told me to reconnect with it. So in the bath, I thought about... What it means to me. And then, here..."

"Yes?"

Yuuri opens his mouth to talk, hesitates, and buries his face in Viktor's chest.

It's not hard to figure out the rest. Yuuri insists on tying Eros to Viktor. He tried to seek pleasure here when Viktor was asleep, but it ended up with tears.

"You cried because you felt guilty."

The silence is heavy.

"Why? What happened?"

"I... I can't..."

There's a line here. One he crossed before and then wanted to step back from. One that Yuuri is begging him, with actions and words, to cross again.

In Viktor's world, there's nothing worse than rejecting Yuuri.

His voice is low and deliberately steady when he says, "Would it be easier to show me?"

He feels the reaction shudder through Yuuri's body.

"What?"

"Show me."

"... Really?"

"If you want to. _Only_ if you want to."

Trembling, Yuuri places his legs on either side of Viktor's thigh and doesn't move further. He clings to Viktor. It's not just anxiety.

"Yuuri. Look at me."

Yuuri's brown eyes are wide. He looks like he wants to cry again.

"It's okay," he promises, stroking Yuuri's cheek. 

"You'll hate it."

"That's what you think? That's what made you cry?"

"You'll hate it," he says again. "Just like you did last time." 

The protective feelings are different now. Yuuri wants him. And Yuuri, the sweetest most beautiful boy he'd ever seen, was given the impression that he isn't wanted.

The bed is too small to roll over so Viktor grabs Yuuri under both thighs and pulls him up so his legs are on either side of Viktor's hips. It brings their faces closer. The shock in Yuuri's eyes overtakes all other feelings.

"I'm sorry I gave you that impression, malysh." Viktor glances at Yuuri's lips. He watches them part around a quiet gasp. So pretty. "It won't be like last time," he says, rubbing a hand up and down the back of Yuuri's thigh.

"Why...?"

"Because you deserve so much better."

He gently brushes the fringe away from Yuuri's face. With a touch under Yuuri's chin, he encourages him to come closer. The boy leans in. He's still trembling, but now from anticipation. Finally, Viktor closes the distance to kiss him.

Yuuri _moans._

When it's over, Viktor searches through his own emotions. The only regret he finds is that this wasn't their first.

He kisses Yuuri again and this time Yuuri hurries to pull closer, wrapping his arms around Viktor's neck. His legs press on either side of Viktor's body, another way of clinging, refusing to let go.

When Yuuri's scent starts changing, Viktor is reminded of how close his rut is. Just a few days now. He has to resist the urge to tear Yuuri's clothes and take him apart.

This time he's doing it right.

Yuuri squirms in Viktor's arms, rolling his hips like he's unconsciously seeking out friction, the scent of his slick spreading in the air.

"The _smell_ of you, Yuuri," Viktor says, squeezing Yuuri's butt because he can't reach down to touch his cunt without creating distance between them and stopping the desperate, fruitless roll of Yuuri's hips. "How could I resist you?"

"Don't," Yuuri pleads.

"Can you show me now, malysh?" he asks, not even trying to contain the hunger in his voice. "Can you show me what you wanted to do?"

Yuuri whines and Viktor imagines a dozen different ways to make him make that sound again. Higher, louder, longer.

And Yuuri nods. Red with embarrassment and need. The most beautiful thing Viktor had ever seen.

Yuuri gets up on trembling knees and scoots back a little so he's over the bulge of Viktor's cock. He doesn't even start grinding on it and already Viktor's breath is short.

"That's not what you did before."

Yuuri flinched. "No, I... Your thigh. It was your thigh. But I wanted— You said—" he looks away, suddenly insecure. "Should I—? Um..."

"Oh, my Yuuri, no. This is perfect."

Watching Yuuri move, even fully clothed and bent over to keep his body close to Viktor's, is enough that Viktor can't believe he isn't dreaming.

"Gorgeous. My sweet boy is gorgeous."

Yuuri gasps. He moves faster, rubbing along Viktor's shaft. He isn't stimulating the head of Viktor's cock at all, just trying to pleasure himself. Completely selfish, and all the more beautiful for it.

Viktor lets his hands roam under Yuuri's shirt, card through his hair, exploring the shapes of him and the textures of his body, wanting to touch _everywhere._ He pulls the shirt over Yuuri's head, revealing silky smooth skin. 

He takes off his own shirt, too, and Yuuri stops to stare. Viktor enjoys a flare of pride when Yuuri's tentative hands explore him, engrossed in his study of Viktor's form and refusing to close his eyes as his breath slowly changes.

When he has his fill, or when he can't keep his eyes open anymore, Yuuri throws his head back, hips still working over Viktor's bulge. For a moment it looks like Yuuri is close. Viktor watches, hoping to see his expression when he comes, but Yuuri whines, frustrated, and stops.

"Not good?" Viktor asks.

"No, I— I just... I can't feel you."

"Too many layers?" Viktor asks, pressing a finger into the wet spot in Yuuri's pajama pants to smell more slick and watch him shudder. "I agree."

Slowly, watching for Yuuri's reaction, Viktor reaches down and pulls his cock out. When Yuuri blushes and leans forward to bury his face in Viktor's neck, Viktor realizes that last time Yuuri didn't get to actually _see_ him, let alone touch him.

"Is this what you want, malysh?" Viktor asks, wrapping arms around him.

Yuuri nods. He's back to clinging.

Viktor kisses his neck, his jaw, coaxing him into a kiss. Slowly and sweetly, he kisses Yuuri's soft lips until he can't feel tension in Yuuri's body anymore. Even then, Yuuri doesn't pull away.

"Daddy, can you... Can you rip it? Like before?"

Viktor almost moans. _"Yuuri."_

"Sorry, I—"

"Sorry?" Viktor laughs incredulously. He gropes Yuuri's beautiful ass through the cloth that now feels flimsy and weak, and then lower between Yuuri's thighs. He finds the wet spot, soaked with slick, and the seam that runs through it, noticing that Yuuri isn't wearing anything under.

It pulls apart with an easy rip and Yuuri gasps, his nails digging into Viktor's shoulders where he's holding on. Viktor twists the fabric in his hand for a better grip and pulls again, ripping it until its caught by the waistband of Yuuri's pants.

Yuuri starts moving again, sliding slick heat across Viktor's shaft. He finds an angle he likes and tries to keep it with short jerks of his hips.

Unable to resist, Viktor's fingers find Yuuri's folds, feeling along the middle. The scent of slick is stronger, thick in the air.

"Reconnecting with Eros," he says. "You took that quite literally, didn't you?"

Yuuri exhales another breathy moan into Viktor's neck.

"Sit up, malysh. Let me look at you."

"Daddy," Yuuri protests.

"Are you embarrassed?" he teases. "Is this the cheeky boy who kept sending me kisses and winks on the ice, for everyone to see?"

Yuuri's shiver in response to that is unexpected, but not unwelcome. Especially when, surprisingly, it works. Yuuri sits up, allowing Viktor to see his pretty folds as he moves back and forth.

"Gorgeous," he says, reaching out to press his thumb to Yuuri's clit. Yuuri's moan is unbelievable as his movements turn frantic, pushing and rubbing on Viktor's finger.

Just the sight of him like this has Viktor wild with need.

He puts a hand flat on Yuuri's chest, where it makes him look small in comparison, and brushes his thumb across Yuuri's nipple. His voice rises higher and Viktor feels more slick wetting his skin until Yuuri moves a little too far towards the head and stops there, panting.

Viktor stops breathing. He waits, letting Yuuri gather himself, and feels dizzy when Yuuri starts pushing down, trying to take him inside.

"Oh, look at you," Viktor murmurs, awed, and moves his hands away to see better. He doesn't even think about holding his cock steady for Yuuri to lower himself onto. He's too stunned by the sight, too charmed by the frustrated sound Yuuri makes when his cock slips out.

Stubborn as always, Yuuri tries again. This time he succeeds and Viktor moans when heat envelops the head of his cock. 

With his hands at the base of Yuuri's thighs, Viktor presses his thumbs to the glands there, massaging them and bathing himself in Yuuri's scent and sweet cries for more. Yuuri is gasping and tearing up as he slides further down, seating himself fully on Viktor's cock.

"Such a pretty boy I have," Viktor says and Yuuri pauses, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He looks so overwhelmed Viktor feels a pang of regret and worry. Did he hurt Yuuri last time, when he didn't give him time to adjust? Yuuri's first time was so aggressive.

"Daddy," Yuuri says, his weak trembling hand seeking out Viktor's and pulling it from his hips to hold it in front of him. He threads their fingers and leans his weight into it, letting Viktor's outstretched hand keep him upright as he starts moving up and down.

"Perfect," Viktor says and he's not surprised by the breathless quality his voice gets.

Viktor feels so good and it gets only better when he reaches down to feel Yuuri's wet folds, stretched, parted around him. His fingers get covered in slick and he brings them to Yuuri's clit, rubbing and massaging it until Yuuri loses his rhythm, rocking his hips in unsteady motions.

Yuuri folds over the hand he's holding onto, hugging it, grabbing the wrist and lowering his head so Viktor feels his hot breath on the back of his hand.

"Daddy, more," Yuuri cries. "More, please, ah, please—" He keeps chanting needless pleas until he screams, face beautifully contorted with pleasure.

Watching Yuuri, feeling so overcome his heart might burst, Viktor realizes that if comes tonight, he will knot. But Yuuri clenches around him and keeps moving, destroying any hope of control. It feels so unbelievably good, the idea of stopping is buried deep under layers of instinct and need.

Viktor starts matching him, fucking up into him, giving himself the steady rhythm he needs. Yuuri collapses onto his chest and encourages him with both words and actions, begging him for more and scratching red lines into his shoulders and arms.

He spills inside with a cry of Yuuri's name, so loud it rings through the room. As soon as he's able to think again it occurs to him to be thankful they have no neighbors.

Yuuri is so tight and hot around his knot, it's like nothing he'd ever felt.

Then he recognizes the trembling of Yuuri's shoulders and the sound of quiet sobs.

"Oh, Yuuri, no." He cups the back of Yuuri's head. "Malysh, no. Am I hurting you?"

Yuuri shakes his head, but Viktor feels the tears dripping onto his shoulders.

"Yuuri," he says again, heart breaking.

But Yuuri lifts his head with a tired smile shining through the tears. Relieved, Viktor kisses him.

"Was it what you wanted this time?"

"Mmhm," Yuuri nods, tucking himself under Viktor's chin. "You're here."

"And I'll be here a while," he says wryly. "I'm sorry. Are you uncomfortable?"

"No. Feels good."

Viktor lets out a breath and feels some tension leave with it. "That's good."

After a pleasantly quiet moment, Yuuri asks, "And you?"

"Me?"

"Did you... Did you like it?"

"You were amazing. Better than I imagined."

Yuuri rises up to look at him. "Imagined?"

"Of course. Did you think I wouldn't, after the way you danced Eros for me? My sweet boy grew up so well." He smiles at Yuuri's beautiful red face and the tears clinging to his lashes. "These memories will be good company, but I'll miss this when my rut starts."

Yuuri frowns. "No. I'll be with you."

"What? What gave you that impression?"

"I have to be."

"Yuuri, you're fifteen. I can wrap my hands around your waist. A rut won't be like today, it'll be like last time. I'm not hurting you like that again."

"Daddy," Yuuri complains, "I _liked_ last time."

Viktor swears. "It'll be violent. You won't enjoy it. And I don't know if I'll be able to stop when you need me to."

The set of Yuuri's shoulders is uncomfortably familiar. He isn't backing down.

"Try me."

Viktor blinks. "What?"

"Test me. To see if I can take it."

The idea is so absurd Viktor starts laughing until he can't breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last bit? Yuuri surprised me too. WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YUURI. THIS WASN'T THE PLAN.
> 
> Also I said they get over it quickly in this one.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor still has some traces of denial left in him. We'll shake them off in a couple of chapters.

The alarm rings and the morning starts with new sights and new scents. The air is heavy with the smell of sex. Yuuri, sleeping calmly beside him, looks filthy and messy. His torn pants are more lewd than nudity could ever be.

After a short moment of hesitation, Viktor decides to wake him up with a kiss. He doesn't respond immediately and Viktor gives him a series of soft kisses until he stirs. The moment Yuuri realizes what's happening he gasps and kisses back, clumsy with sleep. Viktor laughs.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. You have a busy day today."

"No," Yuuri protests sleepily, not even opening his eyes.

"I know, you didn't sleep very well," he strokes Yuuri's hip. "Are you feeling sore?"

"... No." 

"Liar," Viktor says gently.

"Then... rest day?"

"No, you still have to go to school. And after that, practice. But we can skip jumps and the like. Keep it easy."

Yuuri groans. "I'm not getting up."

"My own son, refusing to skate?" Viktor says, mock-scandalized, and laughs when Yuuri glares. "Is it really that bad?"

"No..."

"Then," he kisses Yuuri's cheek, "can I bribe you into getting up?"

"... Maybe?"

Viktor chuckles and slides a finger through the tear in Yuuri's pants. "I better make it quick. So you won't be late."

He kisses Yuuri, drinking in his gasps. His fingers move relentlessly, stirring a new cloud of scents. He decides he could get used to this being the smell of his room.

Yuuri breaks the kiss when his breathing gets too quick to keep up. Viktor smiles watching the beautiful line of his neck when he throws his head back.

"I'm tempted to leave a mark," he says.

Yuuri moans, breath hitching.

"Just a little bruise to let everyone see—"

Yuuri's voice rises in a cry as he comes. If they had the time Viktor would have continued, pushed him through this to make him come again. But they don't, so he stops and kisses Yuuri's forehead.

"Good morning," he says again.

"Good morning," Yuuri returns, eyes closed.

"No falling asleep again. This was a bribe. You need to get up and shower."

Yuuri's nose scrunches up. "But dad..."

Viktor laughs and kisses the cute wrinkles on the bridge of his nose. "It'll take ten minutes."

"But then  _ school." _

"Yes, how awful. Come on. You miss enough for competitions."

Yuuri groans, comically theatrical.

Quietly, into Yuuri's ear, he whispers, "If you shower quickly, I'll do what I said and give you a mark."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"... Fine."

"Two bribes," Viktor says, watching him get up clumsily. "I spoil you."

Yuuri showers quickly and leaves smelling of Viktor's shampoo. Viktor breathes it in and Yuuri blushes.

"I hate not smelling like you."

"Don't be embarrassed. I'm glad." Having a scent that's his on Yuuri is soothing his instinct to claim. "I would scent you, but it'd lose the point of taking a shower. So as it is..." Viktor pushes Yuuri back into a wall, touching him with only the tips of his fingers because he, himself, still smells strongly of sex. "Tilt your head for me. Do you want it visible?"

"Yes."

Viktor picks a spot that shouldn't be too sensitive. He doesn't want Yuuri's aroused scent to be too strong, feeling unreasonably possessive of it. He kisses it, licks, and when he doesn't get too strong a reaction, sucks on the skin. There's a warm, clean flavor. When Yuuri starts smelling too good, he stops.

He expects a complaint but Yuuri just asks, "Is it dark?"

"Mmhm," Viktor confirms and kisses it. "Very pretty." He kisses Yuuri because they both need it, pouring affection until it naturally slows and they stop. "You know you'll get questions."

"Yeah. I don't mind."

Viktor smiles. The easy blushing might give the impression that Yuuri is shy, but he wonders what the media and fans would say if they saw this side of him.

While Yuuri is at school, Viktor showers and goes out shopping. With everything that happened, he's very late getting everything he needs for his rut.

He passes by a set of collar and cuffs designed to lock onto scent glands and prevent a bite. He hesitates, almost reaching out to touch it, but buying one will be too much like agreeing to have Yuuri join him.

He ends up taking food supplies, toys, and pillows made specifically to hold scent well. If he has Yuuri scent them, it'll make everything easier when he's alone.

There's a special lock made to work with his room's locking mechanism to prevent him from opening his door until his rut is over. It'll be useful if Yuuri refuses to go somewhere else. Viktor will have his own room and the attached bathroom, and since the meal bars don't need refrigerating, it's just enough to carry him through. His instincts will go wild with no access to his whole 'territory,' but it's not as bad as...

He feels a flash of heat at the vivid memory of Yuuri pinned to the lockers, pliant and, now Viktor knows for certain,  _ willing. _

He buys the lock after making sure to have thorough instructions from staff for how it should work with his own door.

He meets Yuuri at the rink with Yuuri's bag in his hands. As soon as they're there, Yuuri hugs him. Their scents mingle naturally after long hours apart and something in Viktor's chest calms.

"Hello, malysh," he says quietly. He wants to ask about the hickey and the reactions to it, but it's not the place. "How are you feeling?"

"Weird."

"Weird?"

"Everyone is... normal. They expect me to be normal too. But I'm too happy."

Viktor barely resists the urge to kiss him.  _ Not in public. _

"I can't  _ tell _ them. They won't understand."

"No, they won't," Viktor says. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

They avoid jumps, but Yuuri's skating is so good it's as if the past few days never happened. He glows, his smirks confident, his glances at Viktor more subtle. He's not goading, he's enjoying Viktor's eyes on him, showing Viktor that he's thinking of their shared secret.

And he's beautiful that way.

The tips of Yuuri's fingers caress his body when he slides his arms up, reminding Viktor of the morning, of pushing Yuuri back into the wall. He's so lost in the enticing display, he needs another run through the program to refocus his attention on anything technical. 

Other skaters seem distracted by Yuuri too, and Viktor feels both pride and a vicious possessive need to claim Yuuri right here, publicly.

And if he gives in, it would not look like a normal protective paternal instinct.

He tries to act like himself. Innocent praise, some criticism, letting his pride show through. He wants to be home already. The buzz under his skin, the mark of an approaching rut, is unbearable. But he has to wait.

In the dressing room, he pushes Yuuri to sit down and kneels in front of him.

"Dad?" Yuuri says, flustered.

Viktor leans in just a bit, smelling sweat and pheromones. He doesn't have time to get his fill. So before he's ready, he opens his eyes and starts unlacing Yuuri's skates.

When Yuuri has his normal sneakers on, Viktor gets up and pulls Yuuri with him. He hugs him, hoping some of his own scent will cling, because what Yuuri got before is now concealed by Yuuri's own strong scents.

"You were stunning today. I wish you didn't have an interview."

"Can't we move it?"

Viktor smiles and pulls away. "I wish we could, but that won't be wise. I'll be useless starting tomorrow or the day after. And when I'm myself again, we'll have to use whatever time we have to make up for it. And no," he adds when Yuuri opens his mouth again, "we can't just cancel."

Yuuri makes a face. "Bribe me again."

"What?" 

"Bribe me again. I'll wait through the interview if you'll make it up to me after."

Viktor laughs. "What do you want, then?"

"Test me like I asked."

Viktor knows his smile falters because Yuuri reacts to it, almost flinching.

"Yuuri..."

"Please?"

"Is it a request or a condition?" 

"Both."

Yuuri's face is red, but he doesn't look ready to back down. Viktor sighs. "I'll think about it and we'll talk at home."

"... Fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that hickey made me feel hotter than all the sex I wrote


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A funny thing here is that I feel like this story isn't as good as Myshka. The main reason is: this isn't a story. It's a pile of kinky dadson sex. Which is what Myshka was supposed to be too before it forced me to make it a story.  
> There are little things in this that want to become a story. I'm still not sure if I'll let them. We'll see. If I let them, it'll be after the rut. For now I'm enjoying the sex.
> 
> WARNING: Fisting, in a way that's a bit unrealistic.

Schoolmates are one thing, but for the interview Yuuri wears a turtleneck, hiding his hickey to avoid questions about it.

Yuuri is asked about his progress, about his plans for the season, about schoolwork and if it suffers from his skating, friends in school and in the sport.

When he's asked about skaters he views as inspiration, he just glances at Viktor and smiles.

"Ah, the obvious answer. You don't have to look outside of the family when you're Viktor Nikiforov's son."

"There are lots of amazing skaters to admire," Yuuri says, "but... Yes."

The interviewer laughs and so does Viktor, sitting beside Yuuri.

"Any competitors you look up to?"

Yuuri thinks about that. "Yuri Plisetsky."

The answer surprises Viktor. Plisetsky is an older competitor who was already said to continue Viktor's legacy before Yuuri joined the sport. Even now he's regarded as some sort of heir to Viktor's crown. Viktor knows that Yuuri resents it.

"Why him?" the interviewer asks.

"After his first season in seniors went badly, he worked so hard to get better, by the next season it was like watching a different skater. I think that's inspiring."

The interviewer accepts the answer, but Viktor has to resist narrowing his eyes. He'll have to ask Yuuri later. He watches Yuuri as he's asked if he plans to move to seniors next season and compete directly against Plisetsky.

Viktor's attention doesn't stay on the matter of Yuuri's idols for long because the next question is, "Where did you get the inspiration for Eros?"

Yuuri blushes bright, glancing at Viktor again. "Um."

"Oh, is that not a question you want to answer in front of your dad?"

Yuuri shrinks a little, looking down into his lap and nodding.

"But we can guess. Someone at school?"

Viktor expected this line of questioning with a program like that, and now he decides to interject. "If you would, please keep the focus on Yuuri's skating."

"Yes, of course, of course," the interviewer smiles apologetically and moves on to the next question.

_We can guess._

Viktor shakes his head. They can try.

"So..." Viktor says on the way home, "Plisetsky is inspiring?"

Yuuri puts down his water bottle. "Dad."

"Oh, I can't tease? That was quite the answer."

"I didn't know what to say!"

"Why do you actually like him?"

Viktor can't watch Yuuri's reactions when he's busy driving, but he can hear him shuffling a little.

"He's really rude in interviews. They asked him if he feels threatened by me and he said it's a stupid question."

"That's a reason to like him?"

"That, and... When he skates, he reminds me of you, before you cut your hair. Beautiful, but like, in a strong, powerful way."

Viktor hums, smiling. "Is that so?"

"I..." Suddenly, Yuuri sounds flustered. "You saw him skate, right? You know he is, I'm not saying it because—"

"Yuuri, relax," Viktor laughs. "I'm just teasing."

Yuuri makes a little sound and drinks from his bottle instead of saying anything more. When Viktor allows himself a glance, he sees Yuuri blushing.

Reaching home, Viktor parks the car. Yuuri is quiet as they enter the house. Viktor locks the door behind them and then his gaze sharpens on Yuuri, who shivers.

Finally alone with nowhere else to be for the rest of the day, Viktor gathers his son into his arms and kisses him deeply, feeling something relax in his chest as he lets his scent wash over Yuuri without the need for restraint.

"The only skater you could think of is the one that reminded you of me," Viktor says fondly.

"It's not weird, right?" Yuuri asks, sounding a bit dazed and relying on Viktor for balance.

"No, not in our particular situation."

Yuuri smiles, relaxing. He doesn't seem to care what's weird and what's normal, as long as Viktor accepts him. When Yuuri asks if anything is weird, he's really asking if it bothers Viktor. As if anything at this point can push Viktor away.

Viktor cups Yuuri's face in both hands, feeling protective as he kisses him again.

"Daddy... You said you'll consider." 

"Consider what, malysh?"

"Trying me."

The reminder makes Viktor stop. "It's still a bad idea, Yuuri. No."

"You didn't even think about it!"

"I did and I said no."

"Please?" Yuuri says, his brown eyes wide and so hard to resist. "I need you to see I can take it."

"It doesn't matter if you can. I'm not going to hurt you just because you can take it."

"You won't hurt me."

"You've never seen an alpha in rut."

"Is it really that bad?" Yuuri says with that same pleading note.

Viktor grits his teeth. "I don't know. I've never had a rut with you. It changes with partners and situations, I can be aggressive or possessive or protective or— I don't _know."_

Yuuri thinks about that and Viktor hopes he's hesitating, prays he'll drop it. But the determination doesn't leave Yuuri's eyes.

"Show me the worst."

"Yuuri..."

"Worst case scenario. Show me? Now, when you're in control enough to stop. If it is too much, I'll stop asking."

"It's the same as your idea of a test."

"Yes! Please, daddy."

Viktor already feels his resolve weakening. "The worst will be bad," he warns. "Especially after you made me jealous."

A spark lights up in Yuuri's eyes. "Jealous?" he breathes.

Viktor strokes Yuuri's cheek with a knuckle. "Beautiful and strong?" he says, his voice dark. "That description of Plisetsky, right before my rut?"

"Sorry," Yuuri says, tilting his chin for another kiss, "I was describing you, too. When I watch him, I think about _you."_

That he thinks this helps anything is frankly adorable and Viktor kisses him again. His boy has no idea what he's playing with.

Viktor's hands cup his ass, squeezing as he pulls Yuuri closer. Yuuri moans easily, melting into him.

"Daddy..." Yuuri whispers one more time. "Please. I can take it."

Viktor exhales. Will Yuuri never stop dangling everything he wants in front of him and begging him to take it?

The whole day had Viktor's desire simmering. Fingering Yuuri, marking him, watching him skate, and now this.

"I want it," Yuuri says. "I need to know. Please."

_Fine._

Viktor pushes Yuuri into the wall, growling. His hand presses on Yuuri's chest hard enough to restrict the boy's sharp inhale. Viktor has only a fraction of a second to watch Yuuri's wide eyes before he kisses him roughly, biting into his lower lip.

Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor's shoulders, gasping _"Yes"_ as soon as Viktor lets him.

"Stop begging for things you don't understand," Viktor says through gritted teeth, opening and unzipping Yuuri's pants.

Yuuri noses at Viktor's gland, making Viktor gap through a flash of heat. He lifts Yuuri up, making the boy yelp, holding him against the wall so his head is above Viktor's and his neck is directly in front of Viktor's mouth.

The mark, strategically placed low on Yuuri's neck, is hidden under the turtleneck from the interview. Viktor doesn't have the presence of mind he did when he first sucked it into Yuuri's skin. He wants more marks, ones that can't be covered as easily, and he gets to work creating them.

The scent that his actions draw from Yuuri is heavenly. On par only with the cry that rises from Yuuri's lips.

He folds Yuuri's legs up towards the boy's chest. Relying on Yuuri's tightening grip and the push into the wall, he pulls the fabric of Yuuri's pants down until the smell of his slick is strong enough that Viktor knows Yuuri's cunt is bared to the air.

Hands holding onto Yuuri's ass, Viktor grinds into him until the fabric over his cock gets wet with slick. There's a deep rumble in his chest that makes Yuuri shiver, whimper, "Daddy—"

Viktor reaches down to quickly open and push down his own pants and underwear, freeing his cock and shoving it into Yuuri.

With the fabric haphazardly shoved aside and the angle presenting a challenge, Viktor can't thrust all the way in. Still he groans at the pleasure of Yuuri's warmth, and hears in Yuuri's voice that even partially inside, he's able to hit where his son wants him.

His fingers clench, gripping the meat of Yuuri's ass to hold him in place as he fucks into him. He glances up, seeing Yuuri's face red and his mouth agape to let air in and out of his lungs in shuddering gasps.

His neck is covered in marks, almost looking like one dark bruise. Viktor licks it, pleased, and starts another one under the point of his jaw, where Yuuri is very sensitive.

Yuuri's voice rises in pitch and Viktor feels slick dripping down his cock. He thrusts up faster as Yuuri's nails dig into his back, the boy's strong slender arms keeping their chests close together even as Viktor pushes him into the wall hard enough that it must be uncomfortable.

He doesn't complain once. If a word manages to escape Yuuri's mouth whole and comprehensible, it's one of approval. But there are very few words. Viktor feels Yuuri's orgasm approaching in scent, in his voice, in the way his body trembles. Viktor is close too.

Yuuri comes first, crying out as his grip on Viktor's back turns weak, his legs kicking air involuntarily.

Viktor doesn't stop. Even when Yuuri goes weak and limp, Viktor holds him up and keeps up his relentless pace. Little gasps are punched out or Yuuri every time Viktor's cock hits the right spot inside, overwhelmed by oversensitivity.

Viktor comes, spilling inside, his teeth scraping Yuuri's throat as lightning rushes up his spine.

Yuuri lets out a short, tired laugh. "You're not leaving this time."

The words tug on Viktor's heartstrings. In a rush of gentle emotion, he kisses Yuuri's neck.

But when he's able to breathe, Viktor finds himself unsatisfied. The knot at the base popped when he came and now it rests swollen just outside of Yuuri, covered in the slick that dripped on it.

"Hold on to me," he manages, feeling Yuuri's grip adjusting before he pushes off the wall and carries Yuuri to his bedroom. "I'm not done with you."

He puts Yuuri on the bed and strips him of his clothes, wanting nothing to restrict him. He pushes Yuuri onto his stomach, pushing on his upper back to hold him down.

Without being told, Yuuri gets his knees under him, raising his hips and presenting for Viktor. In this, Viktor finally sees Yuuri's inexperience. His posture has natural grace, but no self awareness for how he's placing himself. Charming.

Viktor trails a hand along the folds, watching slick and come drip from him. He pushes three fingers inside easily, Yuuri's body used to taking up some girth so soon after being split open on Viktor's cock. He adds another.

"Ah— Dad—" 

"Remember what this is," Viktor says, taking a bottle of lube from the drawer near his bed. "Tell me to stop and I will. That's the point."

Yuuri makes a confused little sound, his body trembling violently. "No, don't stop, I can take it, I said I can—"

"In a rut, I won't let you move," Viktor says, pouring lube onto his hand. "I won't let you rest. I won't stop using you."

He adds another finger and starts moving them, preparing to push further in. Yuuri cries out into the mattress, his hands flying to grasp at the pillows and the sheets.

"If you're lucky, your body will try to imitate a heat to keep up with me. To save you from any pain. Because to me, your pace, your needs, they won't matter."

Yuuri's breath comes out in harsh pants, like he's crying.

"I'm hurting you."

"No."

"Tell me to stop."

"No!"

"Stubborn," Viktor mutters, flipping Yuuri over and putting his teeth to Yuuri's neck.

The boy's body goes limp, even more than it did when Yuuri was pinned to the lockers and had to hold himself up. Viktor's hand moves easily in him, making obscenely wet noises from all the slick and lube.

Even with Yuuri made pliant through the force of instinct, it takes what seems like an eternity until Viktor manages to slowly push his knuckles in and curl his fingers up into a fist. He rolls it around lightly until it's easy to move, feeling shudders wracking Yuuri's form with every shift and movement.

He takes his hand out and lets go of Yuuri's neck. His body aches with need for Yuuri's welcoming warmth, for the way it feels to thrust into him, to fill him.

"You wanted to see what that's like?" he pants into Yuuri's ear, his voice rough and raw with need. "I'll show you. Unless you tell me to stop," Viktor adds, even though his entire body protesting the notion. He will stop if told, but he wants to keep going so desperately it hurts.

Yuuri whines. He seems dazed, like he didn't entirely shake off the effects of Viktor's teeth on him. "Daddy..."

"Yuuri. Please."

The pinch of Yuuri's brows is familiar from years skating. Falling on the ice and getting up to jump again. He rolls over onto his stomach again, legs wide apart, silently pleading for more.

With a growl of frustration and need, Viktor rises, leaning on Yuuri's back and holding him down. Viktor thrusts in easily up to his knot, and even after what he did, Yuuri doesn't seem to expect him to start pushing it inside. He works his knot into Yuuri's body slowly, addicted to the feeling of folds parting around him, to the hitch of Yuuri's breath when he realizes Viktor's knot is even wider than he felt just a moment before. To the way hitching breaths turn into gasps, and the gasps into increasingly louder cries.

Yuuri screams when Viktor pushes past the widest point and his knot falls into place, fitting perfectly into the little body. He had Viktor's knot in him before, but never like this.

Viktor lies on top of him and reaches around to press into Yuuri's clit massage it. Yuuri jolts.

"Dad—?"

"Told you," Viktor rasps in his ear. "No rest."

Yuuri's body twists under him, looking for _more_ and for an escape simultaneously, feeling heavenly on Viktor's knot.

"Tell me to stop."

"No!"

"My knots last longer now, unless you come. I'll force you to come just to fuck you again, and when it's my rut, I _will not stop."_

Yuuri cries, sobs, his muscles clenching and unclenching, shifting under his skin. He forcibly steadied his breath, a feat of control that should be impossible.

"I can take it."

"Yuuri," Viktor protests, even as he keeps going, his need impossible to resist when Yuuri encourages it.

_"I can take it!"_

He's beautiful, covered in sweat and so completely determined, Viktor barely resists biting him. He puts his mouth to Yuuri's scent gland and sucks, an explosion of flavor on his tongue. Yuuri comes again with a shout, his body milking Viktor's knot and forcing another orgasm out of him, too.

Swearing, Viktor rolls them to the side, physically spent and emotionally exhausted.

They don't speak for a while. Viktor's mind is clouded. It's hard to think. Yuuri's body keeps jerking as shivers run through it and Viktor tries to hold him, not sure how to feel about any of this.

Eventually, Yuuri speaks. "You said... You'll keep going. After I come."

Viktor sighs. "You'll have to come again. And me, too. But I'm not in rut yet, malysh. Just almost."

"So I passed?"

Viktor feels a rush of something like annoyance or frustration. _"Why_ do you insist on this?"

"I proved I can do it."

"So what? You can endure pain, so you must go through it? This isn't practice or competition, what's the point?"

"I liked it."

It's not Yuuri's first time making a statement like that. This time, Viktor freezes at the implication.

"Yuuri... Do you like it when I hurt you?"

Yuuri is quiet for a long moment. "If it's the right hurt."

The room spins.

"Is that bad?" Yuuri asks, small and insecure.

"I— I don't know," Viktor says without thinking.

Yuuri shrinks, curling in on himself and away from Viktor's form. Viktor's cock, now softening, slips out when he does.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, Yuuri, no," Viktor says quickly, wrapping himself around Yuuri again. "I just didn't know. It's a lot to take in. There's nothing wrong with what you like."

Yuuri nods, still looking unsure.

"It's very common to enjoy a bite, and those hurt," Viktor continues. "We'll give you what you need, malysh. Anything."

"So I can be with you?" Yuuri asks, turning around in Viktor's arms.

"I wish you'd drop this. What if I hurt you in a way you dislike? If you want pain, there are ways to give it to you. A rut isn't a controlled situation."

"I like when you're not in control. It's just a couple of days. Will it be... like what we just did?"

Viktor hesitates. The jealousy from earlier is soothed, so there's no indication of which direction his instincts will take him. "I don't know," he admits. "You asked for the worst case. It will be like this, only... more. Or it might be different."

"I still want it."

Viktor looks into his eyes, hoping to see a crack in his resolve. There's none. Unlike Viktor's.

"Fine."

Yuuri beams and surges up to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was fun enough to make up for the wait!
> 
> How do you think Viktor will end up being in his rut? :P


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little announcement

I changed my mind. I'm going to edit this to be an actual story with a plot. It'll still be a kinky story full of porn, but their lives will be more solid and meaningful. All the little bits that want to be written? They win.


End file.
